Cut to said storage closet, where Keller lies in wait until Cindy arrives. Then he leaps out and presses him against the wall for a kiss. You know, these two are no Nate and Brenda, but they're certainly no Mickey and Donna, either. So I guess that's something. Despite the fact that he just killed a man to get out of sucking dick, Cindy gleefully drops to his knees in front of Keller. And despite the fact that the last time he killed a guy he actually did let him finish the blowjob first, Keller gleefully leans over to snap Cindy's neck after revealing that he knows who killed Papa Beecher. There's a brief struggle, complete with grunts, moans, and no small amount of shouting on Cindy's part, but no one so much as pokes their head in to investigate while Keller lowers the body to the floor. Welcome to Oz, folks. Where the only thing more scarce than a light bulb is a guard. Or a camera. Or even a locked door, for that matter. Anyway, farewell, Franklin "Cindy 'Tom' Brady Spears" Winthrop. After Willie Nelson, you were totally my favorite guy in pigtails.
Nappa. This one starts off slow, with the trite observation that there's no real point in saying "keep in touch" over the phone, because there's no actual touching involved. Things improve immensely, however, when the comment "But still, getting an 'I love you' call in the middle of a shitty day makes a cell phone seem miraculous" is rapidly followed by a cut to Business Barbie leading Leo on a tour of the telemarketing center. Hee! Barbie quotes a handful of stats to him, accurately noting that a telemarketing operation only needs a success rate of one or two percent to be profitable. Then she brags that her numbers are closer to five or six percent. Heh. Rookie. Mine was nine-and-a-half last week.
We flit around the call center for a few moments, observing various prisoners making their calls. There's one guy who's really good, and another who keeps getting hung up on. Then, just for comparison purposes, we cut to Arif, having a touchy-feely with McManus. Tim exhorts him to "galvanize" his men, and one can only assume he wasn't referring to the metallurgical process. From there we go to Arif delivering a pep talk to the Muslims and asking them to select a new leader. A random guy whom I've decided to call Tertiary Muslim Who No Doubt Has Some Tragically Ironic Back Story I'm Unaware Of nominates Arif, and the others deliver a unanimous black power salute to seal his ascension. Then they all hug, although the very next shot features Poet in the call center with his right arm outstretched, so I really have to wonder why the editor didn't just cut from one salute to the other. Anyway, Poet's call isn't going very well, and before long he's swearing into his headset and threatening to come straight to the woman's house. Hee! I can't even begin to tell you how many times I wanted to do exactly that when I worked the phones. I am so taking this as a shout-out, by the way. Redding gets all up in his face about the bad attitude and lousy customer service techniques, and if you close your eyes, it's almost just like he's yelling at Theo. While smoking crack, of course. Poet, however, refuses to swallow his pride (and in all fairness, the woman he was speaking to did say she "wasn't about to give her credit card number to some strange [racial epithet deleted]"), so Crackhead Cosby fires him right on the spot. "Fuck you, Burr!" screams Poet on his way out the door. "Fuck you and your pudding pops, too!" This galvanizes the rest of Redding's crew, and they all jump up and follow Poet out of the call center. Uh oh. Something tells me Crackhead Cosby ain't long for this world.